


Wild Rushes

by Sour_Girl



Category: Kingdom Come: Deliverance (Video Game)
Genre: Attempted Abortion, Implied/Referenced Abortion, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mpreg, Past Rape/Non-con, female oc - Freeform, its more about the mystery behind it tho, now for the big one, shh just ignore me, sorry to the like two other writers in this fandom i know you already hate me, who has no lines and appears for literally one chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-06 02:13:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14631954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sour_Girl/pseuds/Sour_Girl
Summary: After a near death experience with a strange woman in the river, Henry finds himself succumbed to an even stranger sickness. When said 'strange woman' turns out to be a vengeful water spirit bent on procuring a new chance at life for her murdered, unborn child, will Henry be able to help? Or wind up caught in something more dangerous than he bargained for...---------Edit: This fic is under maintenance. Some story elements and chapter lengths may be subject to change. Thank you!Chapters updated: 5 of 7





	1. Prologue

She was beautiful. More than any woman I had ever seen, ever dreamed of… 

There she stood, in the middle of the rapids, weeping bitterly. The crying woman had her back to the road, hugging her shoulders while standing naked in the river. 

It seemed her intent was suicide. 

I knew straight away I didn't know her, but... how could I, or anyone for that matter, simply do nothing? I jumped off my horse and ran towards her, calling out to distract her from making an irreversible decision. Picking my steps carefully and quickly as I could, wading in until the water was at my chest, and the woman arms length away.

She turned around with speed I would’ve otherwise thought impossible, but in that moment, seeing her face, it was as if nothing else in the whole world mattered.

It feels like such a strange thing to say. Try as I might, details of her face have all but left my memory. Or perhaps it’s that her radiance was so blinding, I couldn’t see through to her features. Just like that, I had forgotten everything. What I was doing in the river? Where I had been going before then? Even basic speech itself seemed to elude me.

The closer I got, the more and brighter she smiled at me, her tears vanishing from that lovely face. Her grin grew wider and wider, until it reached an impossibly wolfish grin and before I could even register something was off, she moved with phantom like agility fast as a flash of lightning, and yanked me down into the water with her.

For what little I remember, I'll never forget that particular moment.

I opened my mouth to cry out, but all I accomplished was wasting precious breath. The mud and water filled every opening it could find, my nose, mouth, and lungs all burned with the filthy liquid as it replaced my diminishing supply of air. All I could do was thrash and scream in silence beneath the unforgiving torrent. 

Why bother? God knows I can't swim. I could feel myself sinking lower into the unfathomable depths as that terrifying truth settled in my mind. Things began to grow darker as the frantic last thoughts of a dying man played out in my mind, and any chance of resistance became more and more arduous. 

The last thing I remember is looking at the faint rays of light on the surface, before succumbing to the cold, dark depths.


	2. It Begins

I thought for sure I was dead, but the muck in my throat and the pain in my cold, tired body quickly assured me otherwise.

I coughed up some water, rolling onto my side. What the _hell_ happened to me? My memories from the previous evening we're almost entirely gone, which convinced me all the more that at least one thing was for sure, I _had_ to get away from this water.

I stood up quickly as I dared, shaking with both cold and terror, hugging my shoulders as I tried to take a few steps, only to fall back down onto the wet soil. I huffed, pushing myself slowly into a sitting position, and ran my hands through my wet hair. I looked out to the river, giving myself over to my thoughts as the sun shined happily, warming the water that nearly became my grave.

Who was that woman? Where did she go? Why was she trying to _kill_ me? With all these questions swirling through my mind, I tried my hardest to think back, combing my memory for anything recognizable about her… 

Ugh, it was no use, all I achieved was giving myself a splitting headache. God, I could use a drink and a proper rest.

It took some time before I was feeling even relatively better, but I got up, slowly this time, and looked around for Pebbles. A sense of dread manifested within me when I couldn’t see him. What if she had come back and, somehow, _gotten him too?_

I whistled for him. Once… Twice… _Nothing._

“Pebbles!”, I shouted for him again and again, growing frantic. Any passerby surely would’ve thought I was insane. I ran up and down along the shore side and bushes, searching but unsure of where to look. I called, and whistled like mad before finally doubling over defeated. 

Could things possibly be any worse? With a crushing feeling of hopelessness, I looked around one last time before heading back towards the road. I didn’t want to leave without him, but… how long could I wait?

I stood in the middle of the path solemnly, trying to get my bearings, before feeling a pressure between my shoulder blades. I gave voice to a sound I wasn’t particularly proud of, before whirling around to meet a familiar face.

“Pebbles!”, I threw my arms around the stallion’s neck, hugging tightly. Finally, something normal after waking up from that nightmare before.

Taking a step back, I looked him over. He seemed to be alright, if not a little bored from idleness. _God knows how long I had been gone._ I cleared my thoughts, deciding instead to enjoy this small bit of good fortune, and mounted up. It was high time we both had gotten out of here.

The long ride back to Rattay was made all the worse thanks to the antics of… Well, how long _was_ I gone? Sore, tired, and distracted, I was more then thankfully to be able to take up camp with some local charcoal burners for the night. 

The next morning started out like any other day, barring a fitful night's rest. I took an early breakfast, trying not to bother anyone as I prepared to head out. As I ate, I mulled over my next course of action for the day. At the top of the list: I needed to find out who, or perhaps, _what_ , that woman in the river was. Maybe there was text, or a person somewhere that could help me? Either someone quite knowledgeable about the local population, or a library with a vast source of information… 

Dawn had just recently broken, signaling me to depart.

As soon as I was finished, I mounted Pebbles and made my way to Rattay. It was a plenty big city, surely Captain Bernard or perhaps one of the traders, might know of any women in the area desperate enough to drown themselves... or at least crazy enough to attempt just on someone else.

After about a half days trip to arrive, Pebbles and I arrived at the rear gates and made my way to the training courtyard to find the Captain.

Approaching on foot, I was greeted with a reproachful stare from Captain Bernard. “Feeling alright, Henry?”, He asked, making it quite clear that he felt he already knew the answer.

“I, uh-”, I stuttered, trying to decide just how much of my dignity I would have to sacrifice in order to properly convey the story. “Well actually, no. I had quite a uh-, unusual run in yesterday, and I was hoping perhaps you could help me?”

“Oh really? Well, would you care to tell me more about this- ‘run in’?”

I paused a moment, realizing I should’ve come prepared to this conversation. How was I supposed to explain a situation I myself barely understood? Let alone without coming off as insane… 

“Well, there was this... _woman_ , and she was in the river, crying, and it looked like she was going to _drown herself!_ ”, I paused again briefly to check Bernard's expression. He seemed bored by my floundering speech, but not yet put off. I cleared my throat, as if that would allow me to create more coherent sentences, and continued. “Naturally I went over to try and bring her out, but when I got to her-”

The Captain’s gaze had become intensely stern. Perhaps somewhere behind his prickly exterior was a sense of curiosity. Unfortunately for the both of us, this next bit was the part of the story that was most unbelievable… _Christ_ , how to explain!

“ _Well?_ ”, Bernard asked expectantly.

“Oh, right, sorry. So, once I got to her, she suddenly grabbed on to me, as if to drown me! It’s been bothering me so, and I was wondering if maybe you-”

“Drown you!”, the Captain interjected, a look of mock surprise on his face before he shook his head. “Henry. Have you considered perhaps she was just _frantic?_ I’m sure she just changed her mind about the whole ordeal last minute, got a little too excited when you jumped in after her, _grabbed onto you_ , and then accidentally pulled you both down into the current”, Bernard stated, pointedly and logical as always.

 _Oh._

Suddenly I felt rather stupid. Now that I thought about it, every word the Captain had said made perfect sense, and the embarrassment of my mistake turned to shame. That poor woman was just _waiting_ for a reason to come along to keep her from taking her life, and when it appeared in the form of myself, I was too busy being afraid, of a woman no less, and delivered her to her own watery grave.

The guilt and realization must have been written all over my face, as the Captain put out a hand on my shoulder.

“Now now, it wasn’t completely your fault. She made her choice, it’s not on you that she changed her mind too late” His voice had a comforting, paternal tone to it, and I found myself feeling somewhat reassured. “However, duty calls and I’m sure somewhere there’s a family now missing a mother or, maybe a daughter. Do you recall anything about what she looked like? Anything that might indicate where she was from?”

I shook my head slowly, still failing to remember much of anything from that day. “No, not really, but… She seemed to be completely naked when I found her, and I can’t seem to recall her face. All I can say for sure is she was very beautiful, and fairly young looking.”

“Hm, are you em>certain you can’t remember her face? Think hard now.”

I did as I was told and squeezed my eyes closed, focusing my mind’s eye. For a few moments, nothing came to me but the same blurry face I had remembered previously. Still, I tried my best to focus and, slowly… _I saw her._

She reminded me of the angels in the stain glass windows of the church. Her hair was golden like the sun, unlike any of the women I’d seen around Bohemia. It was scandalously bare, but long and straight, framing her slender, fair face and her eyes were sad, yet _piercing_ , as if a hidden fire laid within her. I mentioned all this aloud to the Captain as it came to my mind, and he nodded slowly, stroking his beard in thought.

“Well, she certainly sounds beautiful, if not a little… _loose._ But not like any woman around here, you’re right. And you didn’t recognize her as maybe, a refuge from Skalitz?” 

I shook my head no, and told him I didn’t. 

He nodded solemnly and we shared a brief moment of silence, wondering what to do next with this information. “Perhaps you could ask around some of the other towns? Could be she’s not from here, but moved to be with family in one of the other towns”

I smiled and agreed. That just might be it! After a nights rest in my ward, I found myself back on the road the next morning.


	3. Hopes and Prayers

For days I searched the local towns, talking to the bailiffs, the guards, the shopkeepers, the innkeepers, the bathhouses, _even some random citizens_ …

Nothing. 

Most simply said “haven't heard of her” or that they “had never seen anyone like that”, someone even suggested perhaps I saw a spirit. Whether they were jesting or not, I couldn’t tell.

I rented an inn room for the night, and laid alone with my thoughts. Maybe the woman wasn’t from anywhere around Rattay? Would I have to search the whole fiefdom to find out? I rolled over to my side, exhausted from my time spent searching. Even if the whole ordeal didn’t turn out to be that important, a small, nagging part of me just couldn’t seem to let go.

I woke up the next morning feeling half starved. I helped myself to a public cooking pot for a quick meal, then mounted up and headed out aimlessly, not sure of where to look next. As Pebbles cantered along the roadside, I mentally listed the nearby towns to search next. God, why did this matter so much to me? I didn’t know her, and apparently neither did anyone else- But before another thought could even cross my mind, I was hit with a wave of queasiness only rivaled by the sight of the Skalitz corpse pile.

First I'm riding under dawns gaze, and next I practically fell off my horse with overwhelming sickness. I suffered through several dry heaves before my breakfast _finally_ made a reappearance. I've been sick plenty of times before of course, but it seemed to be the sheer suddenness and discomfort of being on the roadside that made it feel so much worse.

After I was done heaving in the dirt, I spat to clear the taste, groaning from the unsavory experience. I slowly stood up, chalking this up to perhaps a bad batch of food from outside. Ah well, I suppose I can’t expect free food left outside in a cauldron all day to not come with some gamble of freshness. Besides, at least it’s all out now... Ering on the side of caution, I decided to lead Pebbles on by foot, rather then ride and risk upsetting my stomach further.

I took slow strides and prayed to God I wouldn't meet any bandits. Surely I'd be better by tomorrow.

Of course, it would be just my luck that hopes and prayers can only get one so far. I simply couldn’t fathom why I seemed to steadily be getting _worse._ I had managed to make my way, though with some difficulty, out to Uzhitz, deciding to focus on my health and put aside this investigating business in the meantime. The very next day, I could scarcely keep a meal down! All the more baffling, this time I was _certain_ the food was safe.

Perhaps I had caught something? Frustrating and vague as that was, it was the only thing that made sense. Days dragged on as I remained in an off and on state of this strange sickness. The local herbalist sold me some medicine to settle my stomach, which helped a little, and yet did just _as_ little to cure me.

Regardless, I had people to see and no shortage of work to do. I bought up as many herbs as I could and set out, completely abandoning my search of the past month. At this point, anyone who had known her would’ve rightly assumed her dead. Life goes on, and it just wasn't worth the effort anymore.

Besides, I have more pressing issues at hand. Such a strange ailment this is... Aside form some tiredness and aches, nothing else jumped out as being wrong with me aside from the vomiting. It appeared to happen for no reason, and at seemingly random throughout the day. The only consistency, if you could even call it that, was that the smells or tastes of certain foods and drinks were establishing themselves as triggers to set off the queasiness. God, I couldn't even be _near_ alcohol, for one, for fear of needing to empty my stomach.

Soon I had almost entirely forgotten the strange river woman, in favor of figuring out what was ailing me. I had spent weeks traveling around the countryside, even beyond the boundaries of my beloved Bohemia, dealing with this strange sickness, and not getting any answers no matter how many doctors I visited. As the weeks went on , it wasn't long before things only became worse. Not to mention _stranger._

I started experiencing... difficulties, with my wardrobe. Shirts inexplicably became ill fitting around my waist and likewise for trousers around my hips. _Where was this coming from?_ It seems like all I do is puke up half of what I eat anyway... There was no food left in me to gain weight from!

After yet another day of being too afraid to investigate my own body, I finally had had enough wondering and decided to get right down to it. At the end of the day, I slipped away and retired to my inn room that I’d rented for a few days. In the privacy therewithin, I tentatively lifted my shirts and examined my profile in the reflection of my propped up chest plate. 

And there it was, clear as day and yet terrifying as night. Upon close inspection, a small swell had begun to form on my belly. Of course I knew something had to have been there, _but to see it?_

I ran a hand over the small curve, confusion and disbelief written all over my face. How was this _real?_ My head swam in wild thoughts. _What could've caused this?_ I'd been forced to avoid all forms of alcohol, I bring back up about half the food I eat, and I certainly hadn't been lying around idle as of late… A part of me wandered to musings of curses or witchcraft, and all the terrible stories we’re warned of as children but I lowered my shirts and shook my head, clearing my mind of such silly thoughts. 

Sure it would be an easy explanation as to what’s happening to me, but even if it _was_ true, it wouldn’t exactly help me. After all, I wouldn’t even know where to _begin_ to start a witch hunt. And suppose I found the source of my alleged “curse”... Who’s to say it can be _undone?_

I sighed and lay on my bed. I always seemed to be more tired these days. As sleep began to set in, I found my thoughts drifting back to the fantastical. All the doctors and herbalists I’d been to had just told me “It’s probably nothing”, I’d even had a few test to see if it was a worm, but we’d both come away stumped, as there was nothing of the sort.

Eventually my mind found its way back the river woman whom I’d thought I’d forgotten so long ago. I tried to bring back everything I knew to mind, how difficult it was to make out her face, her otherworldly beauty when I finally could, and her wide and terrible maw, stretched as if in a twisted scream, before she somehow managed to pulled me under… There was just too much wrong with all of it. 

What if I wasn’t looking for a _woman_ , but a _thing?_

Any sleepiness seemed to be instantly purged from my body at the revelation. The idea had been suggested to me once or twice, but I’d never given it any _serious_ thought before…

I shot up in bed, my mind racing with thoughts. What if Bernard was wrong, and this was no normal woman, but indeed some unnatural being? And if that was true, where would I even begin to look to find a cure for _whatever_ has been done to me? It’s not as if I’d be able to go back and find her, then hope and pray that asking nicely will do the trick…

I laid back down again, exhaustion from the excitement beginning to retake me. _Where could one possibly do research on fables?_ , I wondered. The entire notion sounded ridiculous, but if I had to give a serious answer… The Sasau monastery sounded like my most viable option. Particularly the library. Where else to go for information on tales and myths then a _library?_ It was settled then, tomorrow morning I’ll ride for the monastery and see what’s to be found… 

I thanked Christ I’d taken to reading lessons before hand, and it wasn’t long before I feel into sleep.


	4. Forbidden Knowledge

Thank the Lord for Chamomile tea. 

I’d found that it helped with the sickness at breakfast and finally I was able to eat a little and keep it down. After my meal, I collected my things, checked my bag for my long ago stolen monastery key, and headed out for the long ride to Sasau. 

I arrived on the monastery grounds around noon and decided to bide my time until dusk. During the day there was always at least one monk in the library, and after my whole ordeal of escaping with Pious, I don’t think they’d be too glad to see me again. 

Once the sun had finally set over the horizon, I snuck my way inside, trying my best to navigate the winding halls in the darkness. With a little bit of luck, I managed to find my way to the library without detection. If only searching for the right book were as easy...

I was beginning to reach the end of my rope here. Searching this library was taking an eternity, and time is of the essence! I sat down on the floor and closed my eyes, tilting my head back against the stacks. There seemed to be an awful lot of books here for such a small library, and to make matters worse, I couldn’t find anything _remotely_ close to what I was looking for.

I sighed and looked down at my stomach, to which I saw barely any change. Well, at least that was _some relief._ I groaned and got up again. After all, what I was looking for definitely wasn’t down here. 

I returned back to where I had stopped searching among the shelves. Most of the books were religious or historical texts, and seemingly all the rest were in latin or some other language that I didn’t recognize. Maybe I shouldn’t have even come here… 

Then, a thought crossed my mind. _Maybe_ , I just wasn't looking in the right place.

I turned my gaze to the cabinet of forbidden books. How could I have been so _stupid?_ Where else to find a book on unnatural creatures then a stash of forbidden literature? Readying my lockpicks, and with great patience, I took my time to try and attempt to unlock the cabinet. No matter how much I practiced with Peshek, lockpicking never seemed to become easier for me… 

A few broken picks, plus a shameful list of swear words later, and I was in. Inside was all sorts of books, some seemingly innocent, and some that looked as though they’d been summoned from Hell itself. I rifled through the collection, trying to beat sunrise, and finally…

The title was nearly completely worn away, but the cover bore what appeared to be the hand drawn and the fairly intact image of a gargoyle, or maybe a demon.

I opened the large tome with care, making sure not to damage the aged book. The text on each page seemed mostly well taken care of, despite the yellowed, weathered pages. Each entry for every creature was accompanied by a small illustration, making it far easier to flip through the pages on a tight schedule. 

I sat down on the floor, book in my lap, and began leafing through. As I went, all sorts of fantastical creatures raced before my eyes; Angel, Fairy, Harpy, Kelpie… The list went on and on. 

And then, _there she was._

On the left page, the visage of a beautiful woman with long hair and fair skin standing, or perhaps floating, in water that came just above her breasts. A tear rolled down her cheek, her expression perfectly balanced between anger and despair. Then on the heading of the right page, in large calligraphy letters: 

RUSALKA: Female water spirit.

_These unhallowed spirits of young women, are created by those who have died by drowning. This is typically done by either suicide or violently against their will, the later commonly after becoming pregnant with unwanted children or being accused of adultery. Her purpose seems to be to lure young men, seduced by either her looks or her voice, into the depths of her waterways in an eternal attempt to avenge herself, until she captures and murders the man who wronged her._

The page went on, debating other alleged ways and reasons that drowned women are turned into Rusalki, as well as details on their beauty and general theories… but I couldn’t read on. 

What a terrifying way to _die._ I thought back to the moment of my own near drowning and remembered the feeling of being completely powerless. The helpless flailing, the dark water filling my nose and lungs, my screams being smothered to silence by the water… 

And to think, to do this to a _pregnant woman?_ I couldn’t help but picture the scene, the terror the mother must’ve experienced in her final moments mixed with the distress of knowing her child would never have the chance to live. Two innocent lives savagely, mercilessly extinguished, and over what? _An accident._ Could the child not be put up for adoption? Given to the church maybe?

I sniffed once, dwelling on the loss of life, and more importantly, what kind of monster it would take to destroy a tiny, innocent ba-

Before I could stop, I found myself weeping on the cold hard floor. I closed the tome roughly, and rested my face in my hands, caught up in the apparent injustice of it all. 

After a little while, I wiped my eyes, and sneered in spite of myself. _What was I doing?_ Things like this happen all the time, and not everyone can be saved. I _know_ that. And besides, such unabashed weeping was unbecoming of a man. 

More than a little ashamed of myself, I shook my head to clear it and opened back to the Rusalka page. At least now I knew what to call her, but I needed to know what happens to her victims that live… 

I read all the way through the entry, and finally let out a sigh of relief as there, at the bottom of the page, a small paragraph it read:

_Survivors of a Rusalka attack are rare, and thus not fully understood. Some theorize perhaps she releases virginous, or the most chivalrous of men, but no certain information is available. The only occurring pattern seems to be that the men fall to a strange, incurable sickness involving vomiting, drowsiness, emotional instability, and some sort of unexplained increase in weight, similar in physical appearance to a parasite like growth in the abdominal cavity. After some time, though it’s not understood why, they usually seem to go missing._

\---

I aimlessly stumbled into the dark and out of the library, thoughts on my discovery swirling in my mind. At least now I know what she was and why she did it, but the more important matter of _what happened_ was still unanswered and my possible fate left up in the air. 

Then, as if on cue with the coming sunrise my eyes flicked quickly down to my stomach as I began to feel the sickness return. _Again._

I waited until I was clear of the Monastery grounds to give my conscious over to my thoughts. 

‘Some sort of parasite like growth.’, but it wasn’t a worm? _What was inside me then?_ My imagination went wild, scrambling for possible answers; probably some kind of monster, _or maybe a demon._

Christ, and then there was the ‘mysterious disappearance’ bit. What did _that_ mean? When, exactly, was ‘later’? The worrying and unknowing made my insides turn, and I could feel my gut warming up for another bout of sickness. In an attempt to avoid it, I took some deep breaths to steady myself and slowly began to straighten my posture.

I rubbed my forehead tentatively. Well I certainly seemed to be experiencing that “emotional instability” as listed in the symptoms. _How embarrassing_ , I thought, sighing.

But, shame would have to wait. 

_What else did I need to do?_ I mounted up, still trying to answer my own question.

If only I could find the author of the book. It seemed to me that he was obviously the local expert on the matter, but how was I going to find him? I couldn’t very well go back in and ask the monks… But maybe I didn’t have to. 

I rode into Sasau, and caught the local scribe as he opened his door to business. “Excuse me, do you know of any authors by the name of Hutton Janda? It says here that he penned this book, and I’d like to… ask him a few questions. Do you know where he writes out of?”

The Scribe took a moment to consider my question, eyeing me suspiciously. “Hm, can’t say I know him, but I remember hearing about this book from the monastery supplier and, if memory serves, I seem to recall him saying it came in from Ledetchko.”

I breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for finally receiving some useful information, _and so easily too._ I made sure to bless and thank the man before hurrying back to my steed. I climbed up in the saddle, quick as I dared without making myself nauseous, and made haste towards Ledetchko. 

\---

Pebbles thundered over the terrain beneath us, barreling over bridges in as direct a path as possible. I smiled in spite of myself, taking in the moment and feeling of the wind against my face and through my hair. I wonder if this is what it’s like to fly, this blissful freedom and the certain, raw power that came with this speed.

We bolted through the forest trail, and I ushered Pebbles on faster as my destination appeared on the horizon. 

It wasn’t long before I found myself within the town gates, and even shorter still before I began asking every guard and merchant in my sight about the whereabouts of a certain Hutton Janda. 

Most gave me a sideways look, but certainly all stated they didn’t know of anyone by that name. I sighed, _not again._ I paused in the middle of my burst of energy to think. Who could I ask that might know? There wasn’t a single scribe in all of Ledetchko it seemed, so that was out. Maybe the proper question was, who _hadn’t_ I asked.

After pondering an answer, I turned my attention to the townsfolk. About three commoners later, and my mission was a success. A young woman with a small child on her hip smiled and leaned in close, as if she were about to divulge some great secret. 

“I believe I know who you’re looking for, but you should know, the trick is the author isn’t a man _at all!_ ”, her eyes lit up with the excitement of the conversation. Before I could utter a single word, she continued, “That book was written by the old witch out in the forest, Kunhuta. They say folks come from all over with their otherworldly knowledge and problems, so much so that she complied it all into that there book! She used a false name in order to be published, but rumor is she lives in an herbalist shack in the woods just north of here.”

She leaned back to a more appropriate distance and smiled at me, pointing in the direction she meant to steer me, before bouncing her baby gently. 

_Well, this was a turn or events._

I thanked her for her help, and made to leave as the small child gurgled and waved at me. The mother tenderly grabbed the child’s wrist and helped it wave, excitedly cooing words of encouragement to it before looking back at me once more. She laughed lightly to herself, and held the baby to her chest as she turned away to go about her work.

I smiled and waved back politely before she turned, as a tensing sensation sparked in my abdomen. For a moment, I was worried I would be sick again, but my fears were resolved as nothing came about but an odd sense of glee. _What an adorable, and happy sight the two made._

As I walked due north, back to the real world, my mind wandered to my own mother, and even Bianca, as happy memories led to horrific nightmares. I brought my hand up to where I could see it, and adjusted Bianca’s ring, clinging to a finger on my left hand. It barely fit, but I couldn’t bring myself to be rid of it.

As I fidgeted it, I dwelt on what could’ve been. If only I had been more decisive. If only I had proposed to her sooner. Could I have had a family, like the husband of that woman? Even if it were just for a few years, would I have felt more fulfilled in life? She truly was remarkable to have waited so long for me, and how did I repay her? _I didn’t._ Tears threatened to well from my eyes again, so I shook my head to clear the thoughts. There was no changing the past now, and though I miss her so, Bianca is… in a better place. 

I wiped my cheek on my vambrace, and continued on towards the woods. Besides, burying my parents was hard enough, how would I feel having to bury my wife and any of our possible children too? I sighed and looked off to the distance. I dared not answer that question, but rather settled myself with the knowledge that such an alternative would’ve put in me in a far worse state than what I already was.

Mercifully, I reached the end of the town and picked up the pace slightly as I made my way towards the woods. To my shame, I only made it over the field and to the forest's edge before I had to resume a walk again thanks to my distended midriff. 

_The sooner this was all dealt with, the better._

I looked down at my waist, or rather what was left of it, and grimaced. I hoped to the Lord that this witch, herbalist, or whatever she was, knew of a way to fix me, because this was getting insufferable. Or at the very least, _embarrassing._ I couldn’t comfortably wear my cuirass anymore, and the cause of the matter was becoming more and more impossible to hide. A point that I was made painfully aware of by the decreasing number of holes in the straps of my armor as well as the ever growing number of stares I was attracting.

I walked onward into the woods, only to be poked rather sharply in the stomach by a low branch. I groaned, placing some pressure over the spot to dull the pain, and pressed on. This couldn’t be over soon enough…


	5. Reflexes

It took a bit of searching the area to find the mystery writer's hut, but eventually I happened across a small path worn through the forest and followed it towards what I hoped was my destination. 

After a few wrong turns, and a good deal of walking, I was finally able to see the smoke rising from Kunhuta’s hut. Encouraged by the sight, I hurried as much as I could until I came to the clearing. The hut was rather large and made entirely of sticks and hay. Off to the side, there was a smaller, similarly built hut that reeked of flowers, herbs, and God knows what else. 

“Hello?”, I called out, rounding the large shack to a kind of courtyard out front. There was a campfire, a table, some logs, and sitting on one of those logs, an older woman. Her hair was dark and filled with straw, her gaze icey enough to freeze Hell. I stopped, paralyzed in my tracks, as her stare ensnared me. She searched my face as if she could read my mind, while I finally got back the nerve to approach. 

_Christ, I almost wish I never came..._

“Can I… Help you?”, She said, making sure to deliver a rude, pointed look at my stomach. Embarrassed as I was, unfortunately I was use to such attention, and brushed it off. 

“I certainly hope so. I’m looking for a particular author, and I’ve heard you may be familiar with a… _Hutton Janda?_ ”

The herbalist met my gaze with the same unflinching stare as before. “Depends on who’s asking…”, She narrowed her eyes, not convinced my intents were as innocent as they appeared.

I invited myself to sit down, and told her about the book of myths I had found in the monastery. She listened intently, mentally checking my story for any falsehoods. Apparently, none were found as she, albeit hesitantly, revealed her identity as the author. 

“Great!”, I exclaimed with a bit too much enthusiasm. “Then you can help me!”. 

She looked at me reproachfully, but did not utter a word, which I took as license to proceed. “You see, I was reading this book, _your_ book, and I found this creature that seems much like one I had a um, encounter with a few months ago”. Her face lit up a bit at that, and she now seemed genuinely intrigued.

“Well there are many ‘creatures’, as you say, in there. Care to narrow it down?”, She tried to come off as brash, but it was too late, the look of curiosity was deeply embedded into her eyes.

“The uh, Rusalka?”

“ _A Rusalka!_ Are you certain?” The woman nearly leaped out of her seat and began feeling my face and examining my body before I could get out a single sound. Through the surprise at her sudden interest in my body, I managed to get out something of an acknowledgment that I was indeed certain. 

She placed her hand over my heart and paused a moment, as if counting the beats before proceeding down my chest with a slow examining hand, stopping on my stomach. She paused there, her face scrunched up in a thinking sort of way. 

“Actually, this is what I came to ask you about. You wrote something about a sickne-”, before I could finish the sentence, and without ever looking away from my middle, she drew her hand back a stabbed a boney finger into my stomach. I barely had registered what she’d just done when I found myself shoving her off, defensively. Her old, lithe frame was easily uprooted and tossed a few feet away before she slowly propped herself back up.

“What the-?”, it took me a moment to realize what I had done. _Since when was I capable of that?_ “Oh God, I-I’m so sorry! Are you-, are you ok?”, I bolted up and over to her, kneeling in the dirt beside her as she… _laughed?_

Kunhuta coughed once and shoo’ed my hand away, cackling still as if she had heard an amusing joke. 

“Hm, I thought as much. Let’s try this… ”, She looked at me once and then back down before taking her thumb and gently rubbing at the spot she had stabbed at just moments before. The sensation was an mixture of satisfying and strange. 

The rubbing felt good on the sore spot, but a part of me that I didn’t recognize felt _violently_ opposed to it. To my relief, not to mention a conscious attempt to control any more involuntary reflexes, I merely flinched back from her touch. 

Kunhuta made a thoughtful noise, and pulled back to stand up. Bewildered, I put my hands against my stomach, testing for any more of the strange reactions, but found none as the herbalist dusted off her dress. 

“Ah, poor fool”, She shook her head, almost chiddingly. “Well, the good news is you don’t seem any different than the others in your state were. Looks like I _can_ help you.”

I looked up from where I knelt in the dirt, hands still braced against my stomach as I tried to interpret her words. I quickly got up, lost my balance a little, and then composed myself. “What does that mean? ‘The others in my state’, _what are you saying?_ ”

She crossed her arms and gave me a look somewhat akin to pity. “You’ll want to sit down for this…”. She gestured towards the logs we had previously been seated on, and resituated herself on one of them. 

 

“Fine, but no more of whatever _that_ was...”, I mumbled before obediently taking my seat. I looked at her expectantly, arms folded in my lap, then when she didn’t immediately respond, “Well then, what was that all about?”, I jerked my head towards the patch of dirt where I had tossed her before.

“I assume you read _all_ of the chapter on the Rusalki?”. I nodded, not forgetting she had completely ignored my question. “Well then, you must know that these spirits are formed when a woman is killed by drowning, and that sometimes things like _a pregnancy_ plays a role in the cause of her murder, correct?”. I nodded again, the words on the page rushing back to my memory. “And sometimes there are men, like yourself, whom she releases and allows to live, although afterwards you find yourself not feeling _quite right._ Is that correct?”

“Yes, yes I remember all that. I’m here to learn what I _don’t_ know!”

She smiled that same eerie, smug smile. “You’re young looking… do you remember your mother? Do you remember how much she loved and cared for you?”

I looked away from the old witch for just a moment. Any happy memories I could bring up, always brought with them the burning of Skalitz. I met her gaze again, “I’d rather not talk about that, can we just get o-”

“Ah, so something terrible has happened to her then? For that I am sorry, but I want you to think. Think about how much you _loved_ her. The injustice you must feel at her fate. Now think about how she would’ve felt if _she_ had lost _you._ I’m sure she would be absolutely devastated… But what if she lost you, before she even had you? Can you imagine… the frustration, _the anger?_ Now imagine an anger so intense, it could carry on to the next life…”

The old woman’s words swirled in my head, leaving me feeling more confused. “What are you saying?”, I looked at her sideways, tensing up.

“I’m saying, children are a gift…”, Kunhuta spoke as if trying not to spook a skittish animal, “and a gift, is not to be wasted… ” She reached out her hand and brushed the curve of my stomach with the tips of her fingers, never breaking eye contact with me.

I pushed back the unsettling contact and searched deep into her eyes, as if they could tell me what she meant by it all. Then… “No, no that’s not-”, I looked down at my belly and back at her. I knew it couldn’t be right, yet so much made sense… The sickness each morning, the tiredness, the unexplainable weight. Although, I suppose it wasn’t just weight now was it? It was a-; I’m making a-. 

Oh God.

\---

I shot up in bed with a start. _Jesus Christ_ , that was hands down the absolute strangest dream I’d ever had. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, rubbing my face in my hands. Now if I could just remember where I was… 

“Finally, you’re awake!”, Kunhuta stood in the doorway. “Getting you over here was no small feat, I’ll tell you that.”, She crossed her arms indignantly. 

No. No no no. If I’m here at the herbalists shack, then that means that everything from yesterday was… My hands flew to my scalp, grabbing fistfulls of my hair. _This was insanity!_ This was always intended by God to be a job solely for women. Always. _So how was this even possible?_

“Now now, relax. All that stress isn’t good for you _or_ the baby.”

That did it. “Stop! Just.. Stop! It wasn’t funny the first time, and it isn’t funny now. I’ll ask you one more time, and this time, I want a real answer-”

Kunhuta gave me that same look of half pity, half annoyance, and I knew I wasn’t going to like what I was about to hear. “I’ve already told you the truth, and I know at least a part of you knows it to be true. You don’t find it strange that with all the doctors or other herbalists you’ve been to that they found _nothing_ wrong with you?”, She put her hands on her hips, becoming smug again. 

“Well, if you’re right, then prove it. You say there were others before me, how did you convince _them?_ ”, I crossed my own arms, mirroring her attitude. Surely she had to have some type of proof, it’s not like she can honestly expect a man to simply nod along and believe such nonsense.

She rolled her eyes, clearly tired of these games. “If you’ll recall… I’ve already shown you some ‘proof’. Remember back to the courtyard? Ha, you didn’t even realise what you’d done until it was too late, didn’t you? _That’s because it wasn’t you._ Or at least, not voluntarily you”. I gave her a confused look, which she ignored as she continued, “You see, that baby isn’t _really_ ‘yours’. It belongs to its original mother, and her spirit is using you to give the child the proper care that she was denied the chance of doing.”

“So what, I’m some kind of Virgin Mary? A child conceived without procreation, is that it?”, I was hoping she would pick up on my sarcasm, but apparently all I did was provide her with a half decent allegory.

“Yes actually, something similar to that”, she smiled, believing that I was finally beginning to grasp the concept. “Now that that’s out of the way, I’m sure you’re starving by now. There’s some food outside over the fire. Help yourself, there’s plenty”, She began walking away, but threw a final statement over her shoulder before leaving. “Oh, and when your done, come and see me. We need to make sure everything is alright”, She gestured vaguely to my abdomen, and then left.

I sank slowly back onto the cot. 

_This was really happening._ None of that answered my question of how exactly this was possible, but I suppose the only way to find that out would be to cut me open… And with that, a new line of thought crashed through my mind. _how was it going to come out?_ I placed my hands tentatively on my stomach, and looked down without seeing, lost in thought. Was I going to have to um… _push?_ I swallowed hard. Christ, I-… there’s no way. Maybe the ‘cutting open’ option wouldn’t be too bad after all? I blinked hard and shook my head, these were issues for another time, and certainly ones that I couldn’t solve right now. Once my focus had been returned to the present, I found my thumb rubbing small, soft circles on my bump. 

_That wasn’t me._

“Stop!”, I shouted to no one, jumping off the bed and yanking my hands away from my stomach. Nearly six more months of _this?_ Surely I was to go mad long before then at this rate. I sighed heavily and stretched as my stomach growled. Kunhuta was right about one thing at least, I was feeling quite hungry. Re-adjusting my shirt, I made my way towards the food outside that the herbalist promised. Ugh, just the scent of the grainy mash reminded me of the very first day I realized I was sick. Regardless, I choked down my fill and explored the grounds for Kunhuta.

I found her soon enough, working at her alchemy bench concocting God knows what. “Mind telling me what exactly you’re planning to do to me?”

She spoke without turning around, “Oh just a little physical examination, nothing too intrusive I assure you. In the very few cases I’ve met others in your state, I’ve never found anything that would suggest irregularities in the pregnancy”, She turned over her shoulder to look me up and down, “Well, all things considered, at least” She wiped her hands on her apron and gestured to a bench. “Sit over there please”.

I did as I was told, and leaned back against the wall. Kunhuta kneeled down next to my knees, and lifted my shirts for me to hold up. Before I could object, she then began feeling and pressing all over my stomach with an intent, clinical look on her face. I couldn’t tell if I was just exhausted, or if it was something in her expression, but the whole ordeal drew my attention as well. 

If I was stuck like this, might as well learn what I can. 

“So is everything… alright?”

“Looks like. Just a few questions for you then”, She removed her hands, and I readjusted my shirts. “How many weeks has it been, roughly?”

I took a few minutes to think. How long had it been? “I don’t know, maybe 12 weeks? Something like that, anyway.”

“Hm, well you look it, so that should be right.” She stood up and stretched while I decided if I was supposed to be insulted or not. “In that case, have you felt any movement yet?”

I looked at her through knitted brows, and told her I hadn't. _Was I supposed to have?_ I asked her that very question, to which she replied, “Maybe not yet, but you should soon, so don’t be alarmed when it happens”, Kunhuta dusted off her skirts, and turned to leave. 

“Wait, where are you going?”, I leapt up as well as I was able, and caught up to her. “So what, is that it then? ‘Oh, you’re pregnant, but everything seems fine’. _That’s it?_ ”

Kunhuta stopped dead and whirled on me. “What else do you want me to say?”, finally tired of dealing with me, as she raised her vocal aggression to match mine. “Look boy, as far as I can tell, you’re healthy and the baby is healthy. On top of that, there’s nothing more I can tell you or do for you that the _real_ mother can't”, she sighed, closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. “It’ll come to you like natural instincts, you may not even realize the things you’ll be doing, but she wants you to take as good a care of her child as much as you want this whole ordeal to be over with”.

I took a moment to absorb her words. At least that explained all the intrusive thoughts and involuntary actions. 

“Now, unless you have further questions, good luck and get lost!”, she took my stunned silence as a definitive, ‘No further questions’ and turned heel out into the yard and into her hut, slamming the door behind her.


	6. Forgotten Trouble

I rode Pebbles slowly onwards, heading in no particular direction as my thoughts consumed me. _Pregnant?_ God help me. A pregnant woman’s belly had a very distinctive shape to it, meaning I could only feign having gained some weight for so long… and _then_ what would everyone think? Assuming anyone who heard such blasphemy didn’t immediately try to burn me for witchcraft, _I’d become a laughing stock!_

‘Out fighting bandits Henry? Make sure you don’t get caught, wouldn’t want you coming back with more children once they’re done with you’. Ugh, I shuddered at the thought, until a truly terrifying idea occurred to me… _What would my father say?_

Surely the famed Sir Radzig wouldn’t set his own son to the stake, but still… Christ, how would I even tell him? ‘Great news father, you’re about to become a grandfather! Oh, who’s the mother you ask? Surprise, _it’s me!_ ’

My face contorted into a grimace. He’d send me off to have my head examined for that kind of talk… 

Damn it, _what was I supposed to do!_ There was no fixing this. It’s not an affliction that can just be cured and forgotten about, _it’s a baby._ But at the same time… I can’t live like this! Maybe I can get through a few more weeks before anyone who isn’t _completely_ blind starts to realize something is severely wrong with me. Besides, let’s say I somehow manage to bring this thing to term without being crucified or stoned to death first… how was I supposed to deliver it? For Christ’s sake, a man is designed to put a child in, not push one out! _Even so,_ and this is one hell of a big if here, but _if_ I manage to survive the pregnancy, _and_ whatever is going to have to happen to bring it out of me, what am _I_ to do with a newborn? I have bandits, Cumans, and all other sorts to deal with, I’m not sure I have the _time_ to deal with a child! 

I steered Pebbles over to a clearing in the forest where someone had left an abandoned camp. I caught myself a rabbit, sat down on a log, started up a fire to cook some food for myself and took my dagger out to prepare the meat. I paused a moment to hold it in front of my gaze. _Wouldn’t it just be easier to end my little problem right here?_ I turned the blade over in my hand, watching it glint in the light. It was clean and plenty sharp. Besides, I have plenty of bandages and even some alcohol, maybe I could just… 

No, what was I _doing?_ Remember how upset I was over reading about the baby killers from Kunhuta’s book, the ones who drowned mother and child? _But, that was different!_ They had a choice, she could’ve easily brought the child to term and then they could’ve given it away; she wouldn’t have been in any danger! Not like me, I’m not sure I can even survive the pregnancy, let alone reach a point where the child would be ready to be handed off.

I stood up, one hand firmly on my dagger’s hilt, the other on my stomach to hold the skin in place. No, this was the only way. This way it was just one life… If I let this go on, who’s to say how many other lives I would take with me when the townsfolk try to have me killed? Besides, the child was already dead before, right? I drew the dagger back, tensing up to prepare myself for its bite, and plunged it in towards myself.

But the pain never came.

What? I looked down and there was my dagger, still in my hand, the tip just barely touching my belly. My arm shook with the force I was exerting to try and get the blade to continue on its course, but it was as though my whole arm was paralyzed. I tried again, becoming panicked, and watched as _something_ kept my arm from moving to pierce the flesh.

Hot, angry tears began to roll down my cheek. This wasn’t me, this was _her_. I stood still as stone in the stalemate, trying futilely to force my arm to proceed. As I exerted the effort, I watched as each of my fingers slowly uncurled from the dagger’s hilt, seemingly on their own. 

The blade hit the ground as I stood there, transfixed. No, no no no. _Why was this happening to me!?_

For once in my life, could _something_ be in _my_ control? The few tears from before quickly increased in number as I fell to my knees on the forest floor. This overwhelming feeling of helplessness reminded me of the horrors I’d witnessed in Skalitz. Then again, back there I _couldn’t_ save others, right now _I can’t even save myself._

Pebbles nudged the side of my head with his muzzle, concerned, and nickered softly. I turned to hug his long face and stroked his mane, calming myself. Such a good horse, what would I do without him? 

Eventually my breathing returned to normal and I released Pebbles’ face and wiped the tear trails from my own, allowing the stallion to return to his business. He had other ideas. Pebbles lowered his head further and sniffed at my stomach before poking at it curiously with his nose. 

Do you mind?”, I sniffed and shoo’ed his head away. He snorted back, dodging my hands playfully to continue his investigation. As fun as it was, our game was stopped short when I was hit with a spasming feeling in my stomach. 

I grunted as my hands flew to my side, to try and soothe the muscles with pressure. Christ, I couldn't do _anything_ anymore. The sensation came again, only this time… I could’ve sworn I felt something hit against my hand. I started, rolling off my knees and onto my rear end. I lifted up my shirts as the sensation struck again and didn’t see anything, but held onto the knowledge that something was _definitely_ there. Tentatively, I pressed my fingertips to the bare skin, trying to determine what was happening, as Pebbles pressed his velvety nose to the opposite side. 

Suddenly, there was another shift in my stomach, and the thumping aimed at Pebbles’ snout. He drew his head back sharply and whinnied loudly, not hurt, but certainly about as surprised as I was. Pebbles recovered and pawed at the ground, kicking up some dirt, before deciding he was bored and shaking out his mane to trot off and explore a patch of grass. 

_Kicking_

That was it! Kunhta _had_ told me to expect to feel movement from the baby soon… I tenderly rubbed small circles over the area where the kicks had been focused, and derived a strange enjoyment from the sensation. I couldn’t tell if these feelings were my own, or what the Rusalka wanted me to feel, but in that moment it didn’t matter, and all my troubles were soon forgotten. 


	7. Someone Else's Problem

Another few months or so had passed since the day that I had, to my shame, nearly threw away the baby’s life. As time went on, the child grew in strength as each kick began to feel more like an actual kick and less like a spasm or twitch. 

Unfortunately, this also meant the baby was growing in size… and I with it. Everything is more difficult! Getting dressed, relieving myself, traveling on foot, travelling by horse, which I can barely even mount anymore. I have no choice but to live in the woods away from the world like some kind of savage, before people start asking questions that I can’t safely give an answer to.  
Luckily for me I was able to make something like amends with Kunhuta who, for a price, was able to get me things that I couldn’t get for myself in the wilderness like cloth for clothing alterations and miscellaneous objects and tools for repairing things like my bow and blades.

As I wandered through the forests atop Pebbles’ back, avoiding civilization to the best of my abilities, I couldn’t help but think back to all the others I knew before this happened to me. I thought of my father Sir Radzig, of Hans, Captain Bernard, Theresa, even of miller Peshek, that old dog. My thoughts began to wander as the parade of familiar faces passed through my minds eye. 

Does my father miss me? Is he even looking for me? Not that I want to be found. I cleared my throat and straightened my back, before smiling in spite of myself as a scene played out in my mind. I could see it now, Bernard almost certainly thinks me dead, Hans and Sir Hanush arguing against him, all with my father silently processing their thoughts and throwing in his own theories and ideas here and there in the castle dining room. Then, down by the mill, Peshek spending his spare thoughts wondering where I am as odd jobs reach him, asking his circle of friends if they’ve seen me at all lately, even asking Theresa.

Ah, Theresa… I frowned and looked away. Maybe we could’ve had something, but… I shook my head to clear the thought of it. No, she deserved to be with a real man who knew how to take care of his woman. I looked down at Bianca’s ring, still on my finger, as it glinted in the sun. All I knew how to do was let mine down… 

I sighed and looked over to the river beside the path Pebbles was forging in the forest. Large bodies of water like this were a strange thing for me now. On the one hand, I couldn’t help but be repulsed as I was constantly reminded of that fateful day so long ago when this all started, but at the same time, it was as though I couldn’t stay away, like I was drawn to it. I glanced at my belly as the baby squirmmed around to get comfortable again. I could almost swear this thing knew when I was around water. Maybe that’s just my imagination. 

I rubbed the side of my stomach gently, hoping it would get the baby to settle down again. I looked back to the river, and thought of the Rusalka as I soothed the baby. Surely all this business with the sudden attraction to water had to do with her. After all, I would assume she wants her baby back soon… 

I sighed sharply before stealing a last glance at the Rusalka’s baby, and relocated my free hand to my lower back as I stretched a little and focused of the road ahead. Though my eyes had shifted their attention, my mind remained behind. Christ, it was a good thing I took to the wilds when I did. There was no hiding it now, with the size I was at, I couldn’t possibly pull off any lies about my condition. To be quite honest, I’m starting to worry… I still have no idea how I’m supposed to deliver this baby, and whichever way that it _does_ happen, it will almost undoubtedly be more difficult and painful then I could’ve ever bargained for.

The baby kicked a few more times, apparently deciding against another nap, as I smiled, the disheartening thoughts phasing out of my current thoughts. I rubbed my thumb over where the kicks were focused and wondered if I gave _my_ mother this much trouble. I chuckled once, before becoming forlorn again. 

Was my mother happy to have found she was carrying me? Unlike myself and my own child here… Did she even _want_ me? Hmp, clearly Sir Radzig didn’t. 

I looked off to my side sharply, as an amalgame of the emotions anger, bitterness, and sadness caused me to tear up at the reminder of my own recently discovered title of bastard child. You never really realize the weight of insults like that until they can be applied to yourself, I thought, collecting myself.

Besides, such thoughts were nonsense. If my mother didn’t want me she would’ve given me away. Surely there were plenty of wet nurses around as there always seem to be, and even if not, the monastery isn’t _that_ far from Skalitz. After all, with a little bit of stealth and timing, an infant is an easy thing to make someones else’s problem.

I made camp for the night and found myself back to smiling. It seems like such a silly or triflesome thing, the love of a parent, but there was something comforting about the knowledge that even as an accident at least one of my parents was able to love me enough to keep me around. Well… that wasn’t entirely fair. Radzig was right, he had as just a reason as could be made for abandoning my mother and I. Even then, he’s right again in that he didn’t _completely_ disappear from our lives. Hm, now that I think of it, how crushed he must have been to be forced to watch his son grow up, trying and learning new things, right under his nose and yet entirely out of his grasp.

I sat down to the campfire and looked out to the east, in the direction of Rattay, as night took over the land. Besides, _who was disappearing now?_


End file.
